


Inundated

by BatchSan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/F, Femslash, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Multi, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, angry roommates, mild violence, will add more tags later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/pseuds/BatchSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an itch Rose wants to scratch, but can't. Can't and won't. No, she won't. </p><p>No matter how badly it itches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been itching (no pun intended) to write a quadrant inspired fic centering around Kanaya♥Rose♠Vriska. Mostly, I'm making this up as I go, but I plan to stretch this out for a few chapters and include actual plot and substance (which I feel are my weak points, but hey, I won't learn if I don't try).
> 
> There will be more tags as I go and the rating may change (possibly up as opposed to down), but that's an uncertainty as of now. 
> 
> =3 Enjoy~!

It's unsettling, the way you're staring at her from your peripheral. The way you have been staring at her as if she were a perfectly made Caesar Salad and you were a weight conscious business woman with little time to appreciate anything the whole day but this one divine meal that did not include coffee. Realistically, you should be looking at her as if you were a prime T-bone steak, running, somehow, through an alleyway filled with ravenous, razor-sharp teethed dogs.

Actually, you shouldn't be looking at her at all.

"What's your deal, Lalonde? See something you like?" Busted.

"I was trying to determine when was the last time you washed your hair and attempting to approximate when your hair last saw a hair brush in comparison. I keep attempting to lay it out on a graph with times your hair has been washed as the x and hair brushings as the y, but it seems to have the unfortunate result of having a nonexistent line for the answer," you say. 

Bless your quick tongue. 

Vriska scrunches her nose at you, rolling her eyes. "Geeze, if you want to run your fingers through my hair, you should just say so instead of hiding behind your faux interest in math." A smirk graces her lips. "If you want to graph me out that much, all you really need to do is ask."

You have the presence of mind to coyly sip your tea before rewarding her with an answer. "As if."

Smooth, Rose. So smooth.

She doesn't buy it, but she let's you off with another eye roll, going back to her meal. It takes some honest to goodness effort to look away and pretend as if though neither of you had spoken a word. You entertain going off to your room but that would give the troll the sense of victory in having gotten beneath your skin.

against your skin

Abruptly you stand and walk away, desperate for some air that isn't fragranced with the scent of questionably clean clothes and hot blueberry from the pie Vriska's eating, with a dabble of grub sauce - because apparently trolls can't get enough of that stuff and treat it the way some humans treat ketchup. Deciding against going to your bedroom, likely the only safe place from the other girl, you step out into the backyard, inhaling deeply as you do so. Focusing on doing nothing but breathing for a long moment, trying to cleanse your nostrils of the scent still lingering. Finally, you let out a heavy exhale, only marginally satisfied, and sit on the patio swing. Sinking into the sun warmed cushions, you close your eyes and place your hand onto the seat beside you.

Kanaya's love of fine fabrics and fierce flair for beautiful patterns has led her to go out on yet another trip across the ocean, this time to attend Fashion Week in Milan. If not for your studies at the university, you would have gladly went with her even if you don't have quite the flair she does for fashion. It would be nice to get away with just her for a while. It feels like it's been a long while since the two of you have just done something more fun than making snarky comments at one of John's movies during Saturday movie nights with your friends. Which you suddenly recall Kanaya will be absent from this week. Lamenting this, you draw hand your back onto your lap and fold it with your other one. Surely you look like a lovestruck girl waiting for her beautiful, vampiric lover to return from her travels.

Which is exactly what you are -- not that you care to be reminded of it.

Now the only one you have to spend your free time with is your lover's moirail, whom could not be trusted to live on her own even in this new universe you've all created together. You're not sure of the full story either, but Kanaya had passingly mentioned she once had a thing for the other troll, but that was when they were still quite young, she assured. She kept her face neutral as she had said it, but there was a hint of pain in her eyes. Obviously, she had been rejected, so why she had made it such a poignant request for Vriska to move in with you two is beyond your understanding. Still, it was nice not to be completely alone, even if you and your roommate aren't exactly on friendly terms. The many years you had spent together with the others on the meteor had taught you to appreciate the company of others. Yes, going off alone was fine, and a necessity in most instances, but you found afterward that you had trouble living alone. It gave you too much time to think, and you still had horrible nightmares of eldridth horrorterrors even though you hadn't been touched by their influence in over six years. Having others around alloted you distractions, and distractions kept the nightmares at bay.

Swinging gently now, you allow your thoughts to wander and soon you're asleep, though aware of the sun still warming your skin, and then it wasn't. Your eyes flutter open to find dark tangles pressed against most of your face. There's a sense of being carried, moving not under your own power. With a jolt, you realize you're in Vriska's arms and she's carrying you somewhere that her hair is obscuring you from seeing. You want to panic, push her away, and ask her what she thinks you're doing, but you refrain from doing so simply out of curiosity. Playing possum, you allow her to carry you and all too soon, she's setting you down on something soft and pulling a blanket over you. You sense her hesitate before huffing and, presumably, leaving - her sneakers squeaking against the polished wood of the house's floors as they fade off to another room.

Opening your eyes only confirms what you already figured out for yourself - you're in your bedroom. The room smells like lavendar and sage, the scents emanating from unlit candles and small bowls of potpourri that are scattered delicately around the room. When Kanaya comes back, she'll swap out the fragrances, doing so every two weeks like clockwork -- you think she's still making up for all those years where she lacked flowers and greenery, having to settle for the scent of soap and be thankful for having that much. Your pillow smells like Kanaya and you bury your face in it as you attempt to process what just happened.

Vriska just carried you in from outside, that was obvious. But why? She didn't seem to give two shits about you, nor you her. So why make the effort? Your cellphone tells you it's ten past one in the afternoon and you realize with a small start that you were probably out there a half hour. Any longer - and you're sure you would've continued sleeping for at least another hour - and you would have risked getting a nasty sunburn. Your skin already a soft, if faint, pink rather than it's normal paleness, validating this. Frowning now, you realize Vriska actually spared you from becoming a lobster when you're sure she would have gotten a kick out of teasing you mercilessly about it. Pulling your blanket up to your chin, you're reminded of her covering you with it as well.

It really doesn't help to abate your earlier thoughts about the troll.

with her skin pressed against yours

Rolling over to Kanaya's side quickly, you curl up with her pillow in your arms and pray she decides to come back sooner than she had planned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Rose and Vriska fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to this chapter beyond showcasing the volatile aspect of Rose and Vriska's relationship. Basically, they ain't friends. Short chapter, sadly, but that's only because I'm still feeling out my overall idea here (don't worry, I'm not totally blind and aimless here, just a bit of a novice to the term 'pacing' xD ).
> 
> Also, don't expect daily updates from me. This chapter was just a happy fluke courtesy of the fact that this idea is just really demanding for me to write it. =D

\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] at 11:23am --

AG: Fuck you, Lalonde.   
TT: As much as I enjoy your verbal barbs, I'd like you to know I'm in the middle of class. Though it is boring, I think I'd rather nap through the next forty minutes of class in opposition of trading insults with you.   
AG: Noooooooo.  
AG: This is 8ullshit, Lalonde. D8n't pretend as if you d8n't know what I'm speaking a8out either.   
TT: All those eights you use when you're angry make it difficult to understand what you're trying to say.  
TT: Has no one ever told you this?   
AG: >::::| 8ite me.  
AG: I'm only 8othering to inform you that there's no way in h8ll that I'm going to clean up after your st8pid meow8east that just 8arfed all over my carpet.   
TT: Oh dear. I had a feeling Chernobyl wasn't feeling too well this morning before I left.   
AG: I'm fucking serious, Lalonde.  
AG: You s8t this up to spite me.  
AG: So you need to get your ass here and clean up after that st8pid thing!!!!!!!!   
TT: Were you paying attention earlier when I stated I had forty minutes left of class?   
AG: Yes, and you also said you were planning to sleep through the rest of it.  
AG: So there's no reason you can't just skip out and get your ass 8ack here.   
TT: Ah, that's where you are misinformed.  
TT: I stated I would rather sleep through it than trade verbal barbs with you.  
TT: To dumb it down:  
TT: I don't want to talk to you right now.   
AG: XXXXO Gog d8mmit, Lalonde!!!!!!!!  
AG: If it wasn't 8ecause of that fucking contract Kanaya made me sign, I'd cull the st8pid thing and leave its' innards smeared all over your 8edroom walls like some psycho juggalo artwork from h8ll!!!!!!!!   
TT: You know you'll have worst to face than Kanaya's contract if you harm a hair on my cat's head.   
AG: Grrrrrrrr........  
AG: F8ck you, L8londe.  
AG: I'll clean it mys8lf just to sh8w who's th8 more mature one ar8und here.   
TT: You could have just done that from the get-go and avoided this whole conversation.  
TT: One must wonder if were you just attempting to black flirt with me?   
AG: F8ck you so h8rd, Lalonde.   
TT: I'm not much interested, Serket.   
AG: >::::P 

\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

*

You don't get home until four in the afternoon and it's crystal clear from the scowl on the troll's face that she's pissed. Classes ended hours ago and you spent the time after just wandering about town. You even had a tea at the quaint little shop you and Kanaya like to go to sometimes. It was nice, even though it was a little lonely. Still, you weren't really interested in coming home to face Vriska's grumbling and bitching. 

It's been two days since she carried you to your bed and you've both failed to make a comment about it for a number of reasons - even some you haven't thought of as possibilities yet. It hasn't negated your mutual dislike of each other none. Sometimes you get the feeling she just hates the fact the you're fucking the chick that used to have a bulge for her, or maybe she hates the fact that you can call her on her bullshit. Maybe the problem is both.

"Your stupid meowbeast upchucked again on the kitchen floor about an hour ago," she informs you.

"I'm sure you left me the present." Not a question.

"It's a common area, so yes. Fucking clean up after your disgusting meowbeast for once."

"You make it sound as if though I make it a habit to leave my cat in a state of constant disarray." You frown with this statement, feeling the tendrils of anger begin to take hold of you.

There's a flicker of hesitance in her eyes, but she powers on through her bitching because she has as much to prove here as you do. "Don't try to twist up my words. Your meowbeast is disgusting and you should do the proper thing with the nuisance and cull it."

You see red, literal red, and then it isn't red anymore; it's cerulean and gray and black. You don't remember moving but you're now atop of Vriska, struggling with her. There's three shallow slices across her cheek that weren't there before, cerulean blood slowly coloring the gray of her skin. It was only a matter of time really before you two would end up at each other's throats, literally. It's stupid on your behalf, of course. You're tiny compared to her, and she has claws, yet after a few moments of cursing and struggling on the floor, Vriska's the only one with an injury. At least until she's gets a good hold on you, claws digging into your flesh through your clothes.

You suddenly find yourself on your back, the breath knocked out of you from the force she uses to flip you over and slam you down. There's a dull throb at the back of your head that promises to be a beautiful headache once the adrenaline dies down. Vriska's staring down at you with those weird eightfold vision eyes of hers, cerulean floating in yellow. Her glasses are askewed on her face, black eyebrows furrowed down above.

And all you can think of is how fucking hot she looks and how much hotter she would looked pinned beneath you, begging.

Any kind of begging would suffice, to be honest. Sexual or otherwise.

It doesn't take much force to shove her off of you as she rolls off fairly easily. Ignoring the throb in your head, you stand and walk off without a word, collecting your purse from where you had dropped it on the floor in your blind fury. It was uncharacteristic and petty, and ultimately, you're highly disappointed in your own behavior. You're aware that you should apologize because you struck first and made her bleed, but she provoked you, you remind yourself. Going to the kitchen, you find the cat puke and clean it up quickly before heading to your bedroom and locking the door behind you. Chernobyl is curled up in the center of your bed and yawns as you sit on the edge. 

For a long time you stare at the locked door and try to figure out whether you locked it to keep Vriska away from you, or you away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~D= I couldn't get the color to stick to the chat log. Could someone help me with that?~~ Nvm, I figured it out and have officially made Homestuck chat logs my personal bitches on this site. xD
> 
> Also, yeah, Rose has a sick cat in this chapter named Chernobyl. I make bad morbid jokes sometimes. I'm sorry. =P (I really wasn't out to offend here honestly. I only just realized how it looks. =\ )


End file.
